The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 10, 2398

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Ramses injected the AI he took from the abandoned Constant into the Olimpia, and programmed it to fly itself to the Kerguelen Islands so that it could pick Mateo up, and bring him home. He didn’t have time to do anything else, and now he’s glad that he did that. Marie was poisoned last night, and there so far appears to be no cure. The doctors don’t know what exactly is wrong with her, but the disease is incredibly aggressive, and her body is already starting to shut down. She might not last more than a day or two unless something drastic is done. He has one idea, but he can’t do it on his own. He needs their vehicle back, and fortunately, it’s forgoing aerial and noise regulations, and landing right now.

Mateo jumps out of the door before the wheels make contact with the ground. “Do we have enough Existence water to make it to the triangle?”

“It’s hard to calculate,” Ramses says as he’s wheeling the tank towards him. “It will get us closer, and that’s the best we can do. Then we’ll have more than enough to conjure the copy of the AOC.”

Mateo reaches out to help carry it up and down into the engineering section.

“No! Don’t touch it. Don’t touch anything.”

Mateo frowns, but nods. “I’m coming anyway. You may need me.”

“I know.”

As Ramses is loading the temporal energy-infused water into the special engine, Mateo sees Angela running towards them from the basement garage. “Where is he?”

“He’s inside,” Mateo answers.

“He didn’t tell me that you were on your way. He was going to leave with me.”

“I’m sure he was just distracted,” Mateo says to her, unsure if it’s really true.

“I’m coming!” she cries down to Ramses.

“I was trying to protect you!” he yells back.

“I’m trying to protect my sister!” she snaps.

“Okay,” Mateo tries to mediate. “We’re all here. Let’s take off and go.”

“No time for take off,” Ramses says as he’s drying off his hands on a rag.

“That’s dangerous,” Mateo reminds him. “It could damage the pavement, and the transporter.”

“No time!” Ramses contends. “If you hadn’t gotten lost, we wouldn’t be in this mess! Olimpia, teleport to the center of the Bermuda Triangle!”

“Preparing to teleport.”

“Hold onto something,” Angela warns.

A lot of good that does them. Half of the Olimpia survives the jump with them, and not the half that you think. It’s split down the middle hotdog-wise. All three passengers managed to be on the right side, but they’re in trouble. They fall out of the sky, kind of like how they did over the Arctic circle. Luckily, they’re not more than ten meters high. The seat cushions are floating devices, like one might find in a regular airplane. They each find one to cling onto, and try to catch their breaths.

“Please tell me that you at least still have the remote,” Angela asked.

“These pockets have zippers,” Ramses says. He takes it out. “Don’t worry, it’s waterproof too.”

Angela takes out her phone. “Do you see where we are? It looks pretty close to the center to me.” The closer they are to the center of the Bermuda Triangle, the stronger the temporal energy is.

“These aren’t the coordinates that I was hoping for, but it’s not like we can fly or boat our way the rest of the way. I’ll just have to try it here.” He gets himself better situated on his cushion, then brushes the droplets off of his face, and spits out the salt. Then he dips the remote into the water.

“Wait, that’s all you have to do,” Angela questions, “dip it in?”

“It’s designed to absorb temporal energy, in any form. If this doesn’t work then we are not getting the AOC back, and we’re not going to be able to put Marie in a stasis pod, and she’s going to die. So do you want to ask more questions, or do you want to try to save her?”

“Go ahead.”

Ramses presses the button.

The magnificent Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez appears out of nowhere, right on top of the surface of the water. It’s really nice to have it back, if only a copy. Then again, it’s not the first copy they’ve used. Time, right? Their relief is short-lived when the bottom of the ship begins to disappear.

“Ram,” Angela says.

“I know.” Ramses gets on his stomach and starts to furiously paddle himself towards it.

“Ram, it’s sinking,” Angela furthers.

“I know!” he repeats.

“Ram!” Mateo cries.

“I said I know!”

“Stop swimming, it’s just gonna suck you under!”

The thing goes down fast. Before they know it, it’s gone. Ramses slaps the water angrily. I didn’t design it to float, but it still may have. Why didn’t I design it to float?”

Mateo notices something out of the corner of his eye. “That thing is floating.”

Ramses looks over at it. “That’s the satellite. Well, it’s part of a satellite. It can theoretically scan every consciousness in the world, and determine an approximate age by estimating the number of memories that the individual has developed through the accumulation of neural connections. It’s even programmed to attach itself to a preexisting satellite, I just have no way of getting it into space.”

“That’s how you’re trying to find Meredarchos,” Angela acknowledges.

“No,” Mateo says. “That’s how we find the Insulator of Life.” He gets on his stomach too, and starts to paddle towards the debris.

“Mateo, what are you doing?” Ramses asks. “Mateo, you’re not seriously thinking of trying to go up there, are you?”

“Mateo, don’t! You’ll die!”

He reaches the device, and fishes it out. It’s lighter than he would have thought. “Listen, there’s something that I never knew if I should mention, but I think we all know that those Vertegens gave you immortality water, and they obviously did it in the right order, but they didn’t give you all of them. You don’t have time to find the rest right now, but if you can’t get Marie into the Insulator, getting yourself into it may work. That is the whole point of Time water. I love you all.” He disappears.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 9, 2398

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Fairpoint Panders is not working alone, and he has control over everything. Evidently, Palmeria is a coveted prize. There is an organization that has dedicated itself to figuring out how to breach its short borders. They believe that it must contain something so valuable that it would set them up for life. The truth is that, other than universe-hopper, Keaton Palmer himself, there is nothing particularly special about the islands. It has dirt, trees, and other plants. There are a few small rodents, and birds. Fish swim nearby. The resort is a wonderful and tranquil place that can transform the most stressed out individual into the epitome of contentment and chill. It’s a cool place, but its main draw is its exclusivity. That’s what keeps the business going. A limited number of people will ever be allowed to enjoy the amenities, which makes any potential vacationer that much more intrigued by the possibility. It’s not like a real life Fantasy Island, or whatever this organization is imagining. It’s just really nice here.

As far as they can tell, Fairpoint is not a member of the so-called Palm Readers, but he did make contact with them, and convince them to take their methods to the next level by finally making good on their promise of breaching those borders. As it turns out, they were closer than Keaton knew. Here they are, having taken everyone hostage, and demanding answers. Of course, Fairpoint doesn’t care about any of that. He just wants to know what happened to his ex-husband, and Marie is not doing a very good job of explaining it away. Brain damage? How? Under what circumstances? Can it be undone?

“I’ve told you everything that I can!” Marie shouts back. “We didn’t mean for this to happen, but it did, and now I’m doing everything I can to reteach him.”

“But he won’t be the same.” Fairpoint questions. He’s heard all of this already. He just keeps expecting a different answer. “There’s no recovering those memories.”

Marie looks over at Dr. Merrick, who doesn’t think so, given the information at his disposal. He’s right, this is a different Heath. “No. The memories are gone.”

“So my Heath is dead,” Fairpoint reasons.

“No. My Heath is gone. Your Heath left you years ago, because you’re the type of person who would take children hostage.”

“I didn’t know that children were here,” Fairpoint claims. “They’ll be free to go once the Palm Readers find a way to safely transport them off of the island without your shadowy government agents being able to sneak through.”

“You could just give up,” Marie argues. “You can’t undo what’s been done to Heath, and your little friends aren’t going to find whatever they’re looking for here.”

“She’s right,” the Palm Reader who was assigned to watch them says to Fairpoint. “We were wrong. There’s nothing special here.”

“Then go,” Fairpoint says dismissively. “I don’t care what you do. I just used you to get me across the border.”

“We didn’t sign up for hurting kids,” the guy explains. “We can’t leave until we know that they’ll be safe.”

“Take them with you, and hand them off to the authorities,” Fairpoint suggests.

“Then we’ll get in trouble for transporting children across national borders.”

“You’re already in trouble for kidnapping them, what’s one more charge?”

“Mr. Panders, you need to stand down, and you need to convince our leader to do the same. He’s going crazy in the other room. He insists that there’s a secret basement entrance somewhere.”

“We couldn’t build a basement on this island,” Keaton tells him. “The ground isn’t stable enough. We don’t need one. I assure you, there is nothing here but good vibes and good food. And nice bedsheets.”

“I believe you,” the Palm Reader replies. “But try telling him that” He jerks his head back towards the door, in the general direction of his boss.

“Fairpoint,” Marie says, trying to get them back on track, “this has gone far enough. Let us go.”

“No.” He frowns over at Heath 2.0, who is smiling dumbly in the corner, totally unable to grasp the gravity of the situation. “No, I came here with two objectives. I wanted to know whether he could be fixed, and also to punish the responsible party.”

“The responsible party is in the wind,” Marie says for the upteenth time. “In fact, your little stunt has diverted resources that are meant to be used to track him down.” Marie doesn’t technically know that Kivi and Arcadia’s team are the ones on the other side of the border, trying to correct this situation, but her position is sound.

“He may have done the deed, but I blame you too.” He turns away from Heath 2.0 to face Marie. “I blame you for everything.” He takes out a gun, but doesn’t aim it.

“Whoa, dude,” there’s no need for that,” the Palm Reader contends. They’re mostly nonviolent, but Fairpoint lit a fire under their ass, and corrupted their mission.

Fairpoint walks over to Heath 2.0. He gently caresses his cheek with his free hand. Heath smiles wider, and leans into the hand. “I love you. I always will. I’m the only one who loves you enough to free you from this prison.” He lifts the gun, and shoots Heath 2.0 right in the forehead.

Marie yelps.

The Palm Reader walks out of the room. “Nope. Nope, nope, nope.”

“You were destined to be arrested as soon as you stepped foot on this island,” Marie says to Fairpoint in a quiet rage. “Now you’ll get the death penalty.” Very few countries have banned capital punishment. “I will see to it.”

“You won’t be seeing anything after the next few days,” Fairpoint tells her. He takes what looks like a puzzle box out of his bag, and sets it on the table. He slides his finger across the faces, edges, and corners in a pattern to release the locking mechanism of the puzzle box. Inside is a mostly spherical object that comes to a point at the top as a cone dropped upon its ice cream. Upon that is a needle. He then takes out his knife and knicks Marie on the arm. He lets several drops of blood run off the blade and land on the needle. “This is a gene bomb. Do you know what that is?”

“Yes.” They used those in Carnage World in the afterlife simulation. They would target specific code, so that the explosive could go off, and only damage specific people. They were inspired by base reality weapons, which used DNA instead of computer code.

“Mr. Palmer, thank you for your hospitality,” Fairpoint says in the tone one might use at the end of a pleasant dinner party. “I’ll be taking my leave now.” He walks out.

Keaton pulls the rope binding his wrists under his body, and stands up. He runs over to grab the bomb. “I’ll take this as far as I can.” He crashes through the window, and hops out. It proves to be pointless. The bomb’s range is very wide. Marie feels the blast a few minutes later. She’s going to die.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 8, 2398

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Mateo’s phone rings. It’s Moray, which isn’t odd. His brother, Carlin has been calling a lot lately, trying to get him to teleport up to Palmeria. This is probably him, thinking that using a different phone is like a new strategy. “Mr. Matic, are you there?” It actually is Moray, he’s whispering.

“You can just call me Mateo,” he reminds him.

“You need to come right now. I know that we keep saying that, but it really is an emergency.”

“What kind of emergency?” Mateo asks. “Tell me what happened.”

“Heath’s ex-husband is here. He’s really mad. He’s demanding to see him and Marie. He has Carlin and me trapped on the little island. We’ve been helping get the resort ready for the next guest every morning, but the Waltons are still in the main house on the big island. They don’t know anything’s happened yet. What do we do?”

“I’m not sure that I can teleport,” Mateo explains as he’s rushing down the stairs, “but I’m going to do what I can. I’m going to hand Ramses the phone, so you can stay on the line with him.”

“I don’t know how long I can hide in the bathroom,” Moray explains in a lower voice. “He’s going to get suspicious.”

“Don’t make him any angrier,” Mateo tells him. “Hang up if you have to. Someone is coming, I promise.” He’s reached the lab. He covers the mouthpiece with his hand, and relays the info to Ramses. Then he hands over the phone, and teleports away.

He doesn’t know where he is, but it’s nowhere near Palmeria. The small border country is on an island in a lake. This is saltwater. And it’s freezing. And he literally doesn’t know which way is up. Let’s see, what did his brother, Darko say about this? That’s right. Blow bubbles, and head in the same direction. He releases what little air he has left, and follows them up. The sun is bearing straight down on him, but it still feels cold enough for him to die of hypothermia. Sometimes, when he’s tried to teleport in recent days, he has arrived late. Often he doesn’t go anywhere at all. He’s occasionally been a little bit off the mark, but unless this is the Great Salt Lake, he’s a thousand miles from his destination. Even if this were the Salt Lake, that would probably be true, though it might not be so cold.

There is no land in sight, though that may have more to do with the waves blocking his view. There’s no way to know, and without even a vague guess as to where he is, he can’t possibly know which direction to try to swim. Well, it could be worse. He could have ended up at the bottom of the ocean, instead of near the surface. Then again, at least that would have been a quick death. Who knows how long he’ll last if he can’t get his powers working again, if only once more? God, that’s such a bad idea. Teleporting is what got him into this mess, it is not going to get him out. Damn, he doesn’t even have his phone! Why didn’t he just ask Moray to hang up and call Ramses? Oh, because it’s only hindsight that is 20/20.

He has to get out of this water, and warm up. His only choice is to pick a direction, and cross his fingers. What he wouldn’t give to be in a lifeboat with a tiger right now, or even just a man with a tiger’s name. This is all wasteful thinking. There is no boat, no living mobile island. There’s just him and the deep blue sea. Whether he makes it to land or not, swimming will get his blood pumping, and keep him warmer for longer. Perhaps Ramses can track all teleportation around the planet. He’ll realize that Mateo never made it to Palmeria, use tech to get there himself to help, and then maybe send someone else on The Olimpia? How long will that take? A matter of hours? Surely he has hours of life left in him. Not necessarily, or rather, not likely.

He takes a deep breath to prepare himself, and then reaches across the water, pulling it towards him. Then he reaches out with his other arm, and does the same thing. He keeps doing that for about three hundred years before he gets tired, and has to take a break. How far did he get? Well, when he first started the sun was over his head, and the water was under his chin, which is still the case, so presumably, he didn’t go anywhere at all. That’s funny, but could also be one hundred percent true. The waves may have even pushed him farther away, which is probably okay, because he doesn’t know where he’s going anyway. Kolby Morse, also known as Guard Number Two, was a lifeguard, and once told Mateo that he knew how to make a lifejacket out of his own pants by tying the legs together, and swinging them over his head to catch and trap air. He didn’t go over the specifics on how to make it work, but this is a better time to try than never.

It takes Mateo several attempts, usually because he’s not happy with how little air he was able to trap, but finally, he has it. Now he can rest. He’s still lost. He’s freezing. But he’s not treading water anymore. For a time, he just stays like that, floating on his back with his eyes closed, and trying to capture as much sunlight as possible. It’s not enough. He has to get as much of his body out of the water as he can. Is that right? That may not be right, because of the wind. Oh my God, how does anyone survive anything! Half of them didn’t. That’s what happens. One person dies trying something, so the next person learns from their mistakes, and does it better. Unfortunately, it’s looking like Mateo is the first one in that allegory. One day, a teleporter with no control over their power is going to be in the same situation, but they’ll do it better, because they’ll hear the tale of this day. They’ll call it...The Downfall of Mateo Matic. Or maybe The Drowning of Mateo Matic. Or, no, how about—what the hell was that?

Is that a breeze underneath him? He swears, it felt like air tickling the shirt under his back. There it is again. He carefully turns his neck, and looks over his pants lifejacket. There’s the water. It’s under him, sure, but he’s in it anymore. He’s hovering over the surface. He’s completely up in the air. He lets go of his pant legs, and looks at his hands. They’re tingling in a way they never have before. Is this...is this true telekinesis? The god who gave him these powers said that they would just allow him to simulate touching things without technically making contact. But whatever magic he used to give him such a limited form of telekinetic powers must also be theoretically capable of real telekinesis. Perhaps that magic is somewhat sentient, and is aware that Mateo is in trouble.

Mateo closes his eyes again, and drops his hands to his sides. He calls upon the spirit of Tony Stark with his rocket hand things, and pushes himself farther away from the water. There’s a learning curve to this flying thing, but he doesn’t go too far up, so if he falls, he’ll land safely in the ocean. He just keeps working at it, and while he never flies like superman, he does make it to an inhabited island, where—after climbing over some language barriers—he manages to learn is not too far from Antarctica, which explains why it’s so damn cold here. A look at the map shows that he’s even pretty close to the region where the Nexus is. Now he just needs a radio.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 7, 2398

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Derina Torres accepted the position, though she took it under false pretenses. She believes that she will be working for Angela, and has no idea that Angela has plans to leave. It’s not going to be an immediate transition. Their best estimate for being able to escape this reality is still months away. That gives them plenty of time to make sure that Derina knows what she’s doing, and feels comfortable taking on more responsibility. She won’t be alone, which is what they’re working on today.

It was very important to Angela that the half of her replacement who will be in charge of the business side of things would be a woman. This was a woman-led company from the beginning, and she doesn’t really want to change that, especially not after all the misogynistic bullshit that she and Marie had to go through at their last company. Leona convinced Winona to convince whoever needed convincing to grant her temporary access to the United States Database of Working Individuals, or USDOWI, for short. No matter which world, in which reality, in which universe you go to, the government loves acronyms. Sorting the table of employed people was more complicated than it sounded when Leona first brought it up, but it still only took a day to create her top ten most wanted, and then pare it down to the best candidate. On paper, the best candidate is a man, but Angela is willing to sacrifice perfection for best fit.

Syntyche Söderberg, Soldier of Sustainability is not named for the reason you may think. Sustainability, in this case, does not refer to her feelings on environmental, or even social, responsibility. What she’s known for is dropping into startups and struggling businesses, and fixing whatever is wrong or lacking in them so well that their success lasts indefinitely beyond her departure. Her main competitors boast the same accomplishments, but the persistence of that success is dubious for most, and non-existence for a few. She knows what a company needs to thrive in the marketplace now, and in the future, and she does not accept the job if she thinks that it can’t be done. She stays on an assignment for as long as it takes, which may mean a week of observation and consultation, or a year of running the organization from the top down. If she can’t teach Derina to lead independently, she’ll find her own permanent successor.

Syntyche isn’t famous for her high ethics, but she’s not evil, and she does not allow the abuse of power, or the mistreatment of employees or consumers. Her focus is on profit and growth, which often leads to utilizing cheap materials, and overcharging for finished products, but according to anecdotal reports, she will forgo these objectives in order to conform to the principles of her clients. Well, at least she’ll meet them halfway. Let’s not go crazy here, she has a 92% success rate that she has to maintain.

They’re lucky to have caught her near the end of her current project. If she agrees to the contract, she will be able to begin in two weeks. She had her lawyer look over the paperwork yesterday, and is now sitting across from Angela, Alyssa, and Derina, silently crossing eyes and dotting teas. She takes off her reading glasses. “Where are you going?”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m just contracting you to help us grow.”

Syntyche chuckles, and looks back at the contract. “This binds me to seven months, with an extension to a full year, if necessary.”

“Right,” Angela confirms.

“Extend the extension to two years, and you have a deal.” She holds out her hand.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 6, 2398

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Carlin and Moray haven’t slept in about a day. They can’t stop working on this project. They have learned so much already, it’s a wonder that no one has noticed this before. Or maybe they have noticed, and somebody disappears them. Mateo and Leona are the ones who gave them this assignment. They should be here to hear the big news.

Vearden hangs up the phone. “Okay, Mateo can’t come, and Leona can’t get away from her work in Arcadia.”

“What? How is that possible?” Carlin questions. He takes another drink of his energy drink. Someone needs to ban this stuff.

“Can’t he just teleport here?” Moray asks.

“Apparently his ability isn’t working,” Vearden informs them.

“He was just here literally yesterday.” Carlin stares into space. “It was yesterday, right? I didn’t lose time, did I?”

“No, you didn’t,” Vearden assures him. “He went back to Kansas City, and now he’s stuck. We can’t rely on that trick anymore. They don’t really know how it works. He may be able to come tomorrow, but no one can guarantee anything.”

“Then he can take the Olimpia,” Carlin suggests. “It’s not that far to fly.”

“We’re trying to be discreet here,” Vearden explains. “Our people can’t be spotted flying back and forth from a country that only a few people are allowed to visit each day.” He frowns at the two of them. “Maybe you could tell me first?”

Carlin starts to pace. Moray paces alongside him. He wants to be just like his older brother when he grows up. Carlin shakes his head. He has to get this out. He has to tell someone, and Vearden will have to do. It’s too big. “Okay.” He opens the map.

“What am I lookin’ at here?” Vearden asks invitingly.

Moray reaches over to tap on the screen of the large tablet to activate the presentation. Points bubble up in various regions around the world. Transparent colors spread from these points, and swirl around, crisscrossing each other, and mixing, dancing around the screen in an oddly organized fashion. New points and colors spring up. A slider at the bottom shows the passage of time.

Vearden tilts his head near the end. “I assume that this is showing how religions have propagated across the globe?”

“Yes. Did you see it?”

“I watched it, yes.”

Carlin rolls his eyes. “No. I’m talking about that spot right there.”

“Hmm. Yeah, there appears to be no religion there, but it’s not the only one. See there’s another one in the Philippines. And another over here, and another.”

“Those are unpopulated areas. This is a big area in the middle of Kansas. People live there, so why do they all report no religion, and why have they done that for centuries after the area was settled? I looked into it.” Carlin zooms in more. “The other cities seem normal, but there’s something weird about this bit of land exactly in the middle of it. Roads don’t go through. Satellite images don’t render. It’s weird as hell.”

“Weird as hell,” Moray echoes.

Vearden peers at the screen. “Hold on. I know this area. This is where Springfield, Kansas should be.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 5, 2398

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Heath is getting better. He’s learning his skills quickly. The clinical neuropsychologist, Doctor Nuadu Merrick is very optimistic regarding his recovery, and expects him to be a fully functioning, independent human being within at least a couple of years, much to his surprise. Heath has the benefit, of course, of not suffering from any actual brain injury, which is what has happened to most of Dr. Merrrick’s patients. Heath—or rather, this version of him—just has a brand new brain, which needs to learn everything that a normal person would know. They’re starting with the basics, like how to walk and talk, before tackling more advanced tasks, like how to eat food with a fork.

Marie was overjoyed when the first assessment came following a few therapy sessions. She could see it for herself too, he is well on his way to no longer needing any help anymore. When she thought about what that day might look like, though, she started to realize the truth. Now she understands that any happiness she feels for the patient’s progress can really only be felt in a general sense. Her love for people, and the desire for their success, is what’s going to keep her going, as long as it’s strong enough. There are other forces at play here. The relief she felt upon hearing the news has subsided. She now feels herself falling into a depression. It’s as close to a literal pit in the earth as possible while remaining metaphorical. Her heart feels low. No matter what they do, that’s not Heath. He’s a completely different person, and he always will be.

“There is another option,” Mateo says somberly.

“What would that be?”

“Keep in mind that this is only a possibility. I can’t guarantee anything, and if it doesn’t work, we may not be able to undo the attempt, and go back to just helping the individual we have here learn how to move around the world.”

“Spit it out, Mateo,” Marie demands.

“If we ever get back to the main sequence, and we bring him with us, we could blend his brain with the real Heath from the past.”

“That’s it,” Marie says. She paces away from him like a soap opera character, and looks for figurative holes in Mateo’s suggestion in the imperfections on the wall. There’s one big one. “Except what are we going to do with him until the day comes when we can escape the Third Rail?”

“I don’t know, but that’s not our biggest problem.”

“What is?” she questions.

“The Third Rail is special. Nerakali can blend brains from any timeline, but I’m not sure what that means for parallel realities. I don’t know if her power would treat them the same, or what. She may not have any access to Heath’s original mind, especially not if this world’s power dampening-power makes it impossible to do anything like that anyway.”

“She’s not the only one with such a power,” Marie points out.

“They all originate from her, including when Leona and I shared the ability.”

Marie paces some more. “So either we help Heath Two-Point-Oh learn how to live, or we stick him in a box on the off-chance that we can recycle his body later.”

“Correct.”

Marie sighs. “We obviously can’t do that. It’s incredibly ethically suspect.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 4, 2398

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It’s impossible to estimate how long Mateo has until he can no longer teleport, or how many times he can do it, or even how far he can travel altogether. Ramses ran every test he could come up with multiple times, and couldn’t come to a solid conclusion. Mateo is not losing the ability little by little. It’s fluctuating unpredictably, and will likely only become more unreliable with time. He may start to have trouble aiming at his destination, or lose a lot of time in a given attempt. Where he is when he’s not at Point A or Point B is unclear, but the answer could be incredibly dangerous, whether he knows what it is, or not.

“What about the timonite that’s stuck to my hands? Is that dripping off, or what?”

“I don’t know,” Ramses admits. “I don’t know enough to figure out how to detect it. I’ve scanned your hands, and it can’t tell whether there’s any timonite there at all. It can’t even detect the weird telekinetic outer layer that the god dude gave you.”

“I guess I’m more worried that I’m going to lose that, and go back to midasing everything I touch, dispatching it to an innocent, unsuspecting universe.”

“The guy who gave that to you was wildly powerful, based on Leona’s descriptions, and what I’ve witnessed for myself. I doubt that it has a time limit, and if it does, it’s surely based on the integrity of the timonite that it’s there to contain.”

“I sure hope you’re right,” Mateo says.

“I’m sorry that I can’t do anything about the other thing.”

That’s okay. Having that power back felt nice, but it’s not like he was used to it. He spent most of his life without the ability to teleport, or do anything like that. He was born to be a salmon—he’s not supposed to make his own choices—so anytime he has is gravy. “Don’t sweat it. We’ll get out of this reality, and go back to the way things were.”

“You’re mighty confident these days,” Ramses notes.

“I’m trying not to be so stressed out and worried. Everyone else is having a really hard time right now, and the best thing I can do is stay calm, and help where I can.”

“That’s a very mature thing for you to say.”

“Well, I am hundreds of years old, or thousands, or just a regular adult, depending on how you’re measuring time,” Mateo muses.

“I measure it with this.” He takes a wand from his cabinet, and waves it around.

“What is that?”

“It’s a temporal...a temponeural, umm...”

Mateo laughs “What? What are you trying to say, guy?”

“I’m not sure what to call it yet. A neurotemporal something something detector.”

“What exactly does it do?”

Ramses hovers it over Mateo’s forehead. It makes a noise. Once it’s finished, he inspects the readout. “Hmm. It says that your consciousness is a few seconds old.”

“So it needs work.”

“Yes.”

Mateo thinks that he might possibly have a halfway decent idea, which he hopes won’t sound stupid. “Could you scale that up?”

“How big?” Ramses asks.

“Big enough to scan the whole world?”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: October 3, 2398

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Ramses removes the brain scanning bonnet from Mateo’s head. He places it on the table, and starts looking over the data. Everything looks good. No full consciousness has been uploaded, just the basics. The entity is capable of making decisions, and moving muscles. Or at least it would be, if it were attached to any muscles. For now it’s just a blob of digital synapses, waiting to fire. “All right, the upload went great.”

“Better than Leona’s?”

Ramses smirks. “Virtually indistinguishable. You two may as well share a brain.”

“Did you delete hers from the system?”

“She might ask to see it later. It’s best to just keep both programs around, maybe even after we use them.”

“When do we test it? How do we test it?”

Ramses is uncomfortable. “We test it on Rothko.”

“So you upload my partial mind into Alt!Mateo’s brain, which is currently being occupied by Rothko Ladhiffe. Then someone tries to kill him, at which point fate will intervene, and take him back to the place where that body is supposed to die in another reality. Meanwhile, the extraction mirror will be waiting to bring him back to this reality, but my mind will override any survival instinct that Rothko has, forcing him to stay where he is, so that an old version of Horace Reaver can murder him in a New Jersey Hospital.”

“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds absolutely bonkers.”

“It is bonkers. It’s just...also necessary.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way. Rothko is a person. We will be murdering him.”

“Reaver will be doing the murdering,” Mateo rationalizes.

“That is a pretty weak justification, Matt. If this were made public, we would be arrested for conspiracy and-or reckless endangerment, or something like that. Alt!Mateo was destined to die, not Rothko.”

“Someone in that hospital is supposedly wearing the hundemarke—”

“That’s not why his death can’t be changed,” Ramses claims.

“What? What else is there?”

“His murder is inevitable because it precipitates the creation of the next timeline, and the one after. It’s a major turning point in reality, as is Leona Reaver’s accidental death. They have to happen, or none of us comes into existence, not even you.”

“You’re telling me that if we don’t kill these two people’s bodies, whoever is using them at the time, we will all just blink out of existence.”

“It’s possible, yeah. I mean, it’s hard to be sure what the consequences would be.”

Mateo considers this. “Maybe that’s why someone created the extraction mirror loop. They’re trying to disrupt the continuum in some way, be it for good or bad, like what Erlendr and Jupiter were trying to do when the Parallel was created.” Fair guess.

“Yeah, that could be the case. Either way, this is why extraction mirrors are so dangerous. It’s best to never use them. Given that, how would you say we proceed?”

“Let’s hold off on the testing for now,” Mateo recommends. “I’m not convinced that it’s the right call anymore. Why don’t we run more tests on my hands? I’m fine with losing my teleportation ability, but I need to know when, and what my limits are.”